


Almost Speechless

by Ruby_Eyes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Drabble, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, I will add more tags later, Kid Fic, Sorta Smut, one-sentence fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2018-11-02 04:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 13,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruby_Eyes/pseuds/Ruby_Eyes
Summary: One-sentence fics, initially. Then drabbles were added. Let's see if anything else will come up.Chapters had been rearranged so one-sentence fics are alternating with drabbles every other chapter or so.





	1. Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Everything started with Mikki's April Fool's Day Tomfoolery...
> 
> And I know April's long gone but these one-sentence fics will be given (posted) for a purpose. I hope I can achieve that purpose so someone can tell me "My heart... It's yours, it will always be yours."
> 
> *winks at peeps from JBO*

Brienne was certain she heard Jaime telling her earlier by her doorstep, "We're both pretty tired, so I'll just settle with kissing then go," but ten minutes later, they were both sweaty and panting on her living room floor, her pants missing, her wide, blue, questioning eyes on her boyfriend who defensively said, "Well, I didn't exactly say where and how many times I'll kiss you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little detail was added to the original post in JBO. :D


	2. Wrestle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This goes out to the awesome december13.

Brienne gasped and slightly trembled when Jaime lightly grazed his teeth on her leg, the one already slung on his shoulder. She bit her lip when he tapped on his other shoulder, instructing her to put her other leg on. She hesitated but he insisted he can take her so she did as told.

 

"Ready?" he asked and she replied with another question, "Are you?"

 

Instead of answering, he took a plunge and had Brienne muffling a scream and gripping tightly on his golden blonde hair.

 

When he stood up, he spit out some saltwater and smilingly waded towards the neck-deep part of the sea telling his not-really-that-heavy girlfriend, "I'll worry about keeping you steady on my shoulders, wench. Just make sure you quickly knock Asha off Bronn's shoulders before I drown."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *terribly sings Taylor Swift* Iiii go back to december all the tiiime... :D
> 
> Uh, december taught me how fun it is to play with dirty minds.


	3. Imperfections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-sentence poem

That tiny crease between your brows,  
That ever-present frown on your mouth,  
Those crooked teeth, that broken nose,  
Those numerous freckles from your head to toes,

 

That endless blushing and that scowl,  
Those round eyes that look like that of a cow,  
That messy hair that sticks out everywhere,  
Those shoulders so broad like that of a bear,

  
That barely there bosom, mostly just muscles,  
That waist that only curves with a really good girdle,  
That lean bump on your rear that could pass for a man's,  
That always-there, scary, manly stance,

  
That self-sacrificing, too honorable heart,  
That stubborn head that could break you apart,  
Those unbecoming things people hate about you  
Are things that I love and cherish because, wench, I dream of you.


	4. Outbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descendants of the Sun AU
> 
> I know nothing abt medicine, so...
> 
> Angst? I guess?

The whole hospital was tense. Even the doctors couldn’t hide the way they’re trying to avoid prolonged contact with both patients and colleagues. Everyone feared everyone.

  
Brienne stood inside the quarantined room and quietly stared at the doctor who first showed similar symptoms. As a nurse, and a dedicated one at that as many colleagues claim, it was her job to keep a straight face and not show how scared she was as she approached the coughing golden half-god on the bed.

  
If only she was actually just scared of getting contracted by the illness. If only she was simply scared of the same thing the others were so scared of.

  
“Wench,” her patient called her, grinning in between coughs. “I forgot to feed my cubs in Lionsville. Will you open my laptop later and feed them for me?”

  
She rolled her eyes and hoped he saw that through her glasses. She reached for his arm and tied the tourniquet. “I need to get your blood sample, Dr. Lannister.”

  
“What’s with the formal addressing?” he teased, apparently forcing his coughs to stop. “Uh, by the way, please make sure to use up all my game items. No use in being frugal now.”

  
She bit her lip under her mask, counting down from ten and ignoring the sting behind he eyes.

  
She touched the hollow on his arm looking for a blood vessel.

  
“This will sting a bit.” She inserted the syringe and drew the needed amount of blood.

  
“You’re really good at drawing blood, you know,” her patient complimented. “You always get it right, draw from the right vessel, get the right amount at your first try.”

  
She sighed as she pulled the needle out and pressed the gauze where it left. “It hasn’t always been that way. Not until I practiced many times on an idiot doctor friend when I was still in nursing school.”

  
He smiled weakly at her, emerald eyes not leaving her masked face. “You still remember.”

  
She nodded, returning his gaze. “Every time I draw blood, I do.”

  
He coughed again but the smile stayed glued to his beautiful face.

  
“You’re being weirdly gentle and patient with me, wench,” he teased and she had to turn away… to finish transferring the blood sample and to remove her gloves. “Did the Stranger tell you he’s coming for me next? Think I’ll test positive?”

  
She glared at him and snapped, “Shut the fuck up!”

  
Fuck his seniority. Fuck that he's a patient. He even had the guts to still grin a her.

  
“I don’t even think you have anything other than a common flu. And you’re just exaggerating pain to skip work!”

  
She then turned and pushed the medical cart out, knuckles almost white with how hard she gripped the handle.

“Just call me if you feel any pain or need anything.” She was shaking in so much anger.

  
But she heard him croak behind her, “But what if I miss you?”

Her knees almost gave out, but thank the Seven she managed to say, “I’ll be back before then.”


	5. Outbreak 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a Descendants of the Sun AU
> 
> Still I'm clueless abt medical anything.

Amidst the panic of all medical personnel, patients and families throughout the hospital, Brienne heard the continuous ping of coins earned in the infamous computer game Lionsville inside the quarantined room. Following it were the laughs and victorious chants of her doctor best friend, now also her patient, playing the game. Jaime Lannister.

  
She stared quietly at him. He didn’t notice her come in his room, too busy with his virtual cubs. Despite the possibility that he might have to part forever with this favorite game of his if he ever tests positive of the virus, he looked peaceful, happy, and as always, _godsdamn_ beautiful.

  
“The results are out,” she announced and he looked back with a grin that made her feel weaker than she already did.

  
Probably because of her sullen eyes, Jaime’s smile faded. But eventually, he smiled again, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. He shut his laptop and got off on one side of his bed to face Brienne.

  
“Really?” he asked. “That means I’m free to go.”

  
They looked at each other quietly for a while before Brienne could reply, “I haven’t said anything yet.”

  
Jaime chuckled as he tilted his head. Brienne stayed frozen where she stood, willing her body to stop trembling.

  
“I did have exactly the same initial symptoms as the virus,” Jaime remarked.

  
Brienne was finally able to swallow the huge lump in her throat but she still couldn’t speak, afraid that if she did, her tears will finally fall.

  
Jaime then continued, “But it’s been days, wench. And yet, I haven’t vomited or defecated blood. I can still clearly hear your seductive voice, so no blood in my ears. I can still see and adore those sapphire eyes, so no bloody tears. I can still smell my favorite Brienne scent mixed with disinfectant, so no blood in my nose. And most important of all, I still have perfectly flawless skin.”

  
Brienne tore her mask off as she tried to control her quivering mouth and quickening breaths. She glared at Jaime as she slowly approached him.

  
“That was just a common flu, wench,” Jaime added with a smirk when she was already just less than a foot away from him.

  
She punched him weakly on one shoulder and shakily muttered, “That’s right, idiot. Just a flu.”

  
Jaime sighed relief from her confirmation but was immediately shocked when she shouted, “YOU HAD ME WORRIED FOR NOTHING!”

  
She pulled him in a tight hug and let all her feelings and anxiety burst, cried days' worth of tears and snuck her head on the hollow at the bottom of his neck.

  
This might be against protocol but no one’s looking anyway. Brienne let herself go after days of not showing how much she feared that she might lose her best friend, her mentor, her ex-nemesis, the love of her life. _Wait, what_?

  
She froze and realized the grave mistake she had just done. She let him go and stepped back, her eyes wide and mouth agape.

  
Jaime on the other hand had his signature annoying smug look.

  
Brienne raised a forefinger and turned to leave. However as soon as she turned her back, she was yanked right back in Jaime’s arms, her face just a few inches away from his.

  
“W-What are you doing?” she stuttered.

  
He grinned wide again. “You hugged me first.”

  
“I regret it now!”

  
He laughed and she scowled at him.

  
“You don’t regret that, wench,” he insisted and as much as she denies it inside, she knew he is right. “But this one you might.”

  
He demandingly claimed her lips.

  
She sighed as he placed a hand behind her neck, the other on the small of her back. Her heart pounded inside her chest, especially when he tilted his head to deepen the kiss -- the sweet, warm, long-awaited kiss. _How could she not gladly respond? How could she anymore withhold all the desire she had kept for years?_

  
He pulled back though and that was the only part she did regret.

  
“Want to catch my flu, wench?” he chuckled as he caressed her cheek.

  
She rolled her eyes. “You're back to your idiot self; you’re all healed.”

  
She then grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him for another kiss.


	6. Note

Brienne jumped when during one very rare quiet time in the bathroom where she changed her feminine pad, she saw a tiny piece of paper slip under the bathroom door, a note with the terrible handwriting of her roommate, Jaime, saying, "Stop pooping, wench. I miss you already."


	7. Confusion

Margaery gasped when she saw a familiar figure storming out of the club's ladies' room. Cersei Lannister.

Brienne went in there about ten minutes ago and hasn't come out since, so Margaery started worrying. People haven't really treated Brienne well, but Cersei's treatment of her is a whole different level of hell. And Brienne never took that long in the washroom, so Margaery quickly got up to check on her.

Before she reached the ladies' though, the door opened once again, and Brienne wobbled out, beet red and fidgety all over, her hair and dress messier than usual, and one shoe missing.

"Brienne!" Margaery called as she half-ran to her. "Gods! Did Cersei hurt you?"

Brienne shook her head but Margaery still checked her face, chest and arms for scratches or any indication that she was hurt.

There were none, but for one.

A hickey.

"Brienne?" she gasped. "You and Cersei? I thought you don't swing that way."

Brienne coughed. "What?!"

Before Margaery could misunderstand any further, the ladies' room door opened once again.

Jaime Lannister came out, shirt wrongly buttoned, looking around while holding Brienne's other shoe.

 


	8. Stare

"Stop staring, idiot," Brienne grunted as she scowled and rolled her eyes at Jaime who was once again looking at her like she was such a stare-worthy sight, carrier of one of the Seven heavens, the first flower to bloom after winter; then she heard him reply, "Ok," before he obeyed her order to stop staring as he closed his eyes and kissed her blind.


	9. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst. just angst.

Brienne desperately wanted the burial to end so she could finally grieve her father... alone. She refused to shed a tear in front of all those people she barely knew.

As for the only person there she truly did know, she'd much rather lie beside her father's deathbed now than break in front of him. She promised herself that the last time he'd ever see her tear up was the day of their last and final breakup. Not even her current boyfriend, Hyle Hunt will have the rare chance to see her crack; why would she let one Jaime Lannister from her past have that?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hard yank of her arm and a voice too hurtfully familiar, "Wench."

He winced at his own mistake. He had no right to still call her that. "Sorry. Brienne."

"Jaime."

She kept the well-practiced blank facade on her face while he was pulling her to a quiet corner in the room until when he finally faced her. It was hard to ignore his tensed jaw and his dark, green eyes burning and questioning her blank, blue ones. But she had to; even when his expression started softening after one deep sigh.

"S-Sorry for your... about your... Sorry."

She merely nodded then looked around, looking for a hopefully subtle escape.

"We can't be seen together. Hyle..." She hoped her voice didn't sound as shaky as she felt.

His jaw hardened again; so did his grip on her arm. "That's actually why I wanted to talk to you. What is that cunt doing here?"

She refused to look him straight in the eyes. "We're together now."

He huffed. "What? You and that ass?"

It was her turn to huff before gritting her teeth.

She yanked her arm away and stood on full height in front of him.

"Yes. Me. And that ass." Her hands both curled into fists. "That ass who won't go back and forth in deciding whether or not to stay. That ass who did _choose_ to stay. That ass who wouldn't tell me he loves me then go right back into his sister's arms whenever she disposes off her last boy toy."

He guiltily looked away and murmured, "But he doesn't love you."

She stepped back and looked at him one last time. "With Daddy gone, I wonder who does."

She turned and walked out on him, truly wondering if anyone else will ever love her; after she buries her father, after her doomed relationship with Hyle, after Jaime... if there's anything good to come after the only love she thought was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to only make angst in AUs before the next season (Although, I'm not sure I'll write more angst). Does that lessen my sin here?


	10. Look

Jaime couldn't understand why his bestfriend, Brienne, couldn't spare him just an hour when he offered to take her to dinner; so, he grabbed her by the hand and dragged her out while roaring, "If you're so dedicated to that stupid project about Look of True Love, just submit my picture to your teacher -- one where I'm looking at you."


	11. Worlds

"You rock my world," Tormund finally confessed with a smitten smile as he lovingly offered a bunch of roses and his sincere heart to the tall lady knight of his wildling dreams.

Too bad, he was interrupted when elbowed out of the way by a one-handed, blonde Southron man who glared at him and possessively grabbed the lady's waist, a lion protecting his territory and roaring, "Hey, hey hey! I don't care about your world, you're obviously trying to steal _mine_!"


	12. Proud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A U-turn to one-sentence fics.

Brienne alternately glared at her golden god of a best friend, his stupid grin and the eye-burning, cringe-worthy banner he carried that had her name in glittery capitals; then she bellowed, "I told you I will only be a spotter! I'm not part of the fucking pep squad!"


	13. Clueless

"I-I... What am I supposed to do, Your Grace? I was never taught of such things as..." Brienne's words trailed when the babe in her arms caught her attention as he sucked on his lower lip before opening his lovely green eyes and stared as if in awe at his mother.

The Queen in the North smiled encouragingly, caressed the babe's cheek and replied, "I'm certain you two will figure it out together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was severely tempted to turn this into angst.*eyes december13, Aerest, Weirdaydreamingfangirl and the others*
> 
> But my heart just can't. So feel free to get your happy or painful endings in your heads.


	14. Chaperone

Podrick panicked when he saw his two really tall and really drunk friends already meters away from him in the flood of drunken people, Brienne, immediately recognizable in her giant bee suit and Jaime in his huge flower suit, hollering, "We're going to IHOP, wench! We're taking back all that honey we made together but weren't compensated for!"


	15. Towering

"But it's your birthday!" eight-year old little Jaime sulked as he pouted his lips in front of his very best friend and funniest enemy in class, Brienne. "I should be allowed to kiss you on your birthday!"

Brienne crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out. "No! You can only kiss me if you grow taller than I am."

Jaime scratched his head and kicked a chair before running out.

Brienne put the kicked chair back in its place, almost feeling sorry for Jaime and a little scared that he might stop talking to her.

But minutes later, Jaime came back screaming her name and wobbling on what appears to be Miss Tyrell's high-heeled shoes.

With a smug look that he'll use many times when he grows up, he asked, "How about now?"


	16. Wonder

"Before I met you, wench, I thought I'll only ever love Cersei and no other for my whole life; but now that you're here, making me love you more every day, I sometimes wonder how I even thought it was love I felt for my sister."


	17. Stash

Brienne pursed her lips as she typed her roommate, Jaime's laptop password and waited till the desktop showed all of his files.

She felt extra-irritated with him today because he deleted all the photos in her laptop of her high school crush, singer/actor Renly Baratheon, after they bickered the night before over who was hotter, him, Jaime, or pretty Renly.

They both knew Jaime unquestionably won in that aspect. But Brienne won't risk him knowing that she's had feelings for him for the longest time. (It's sheer luck that he hasn't noticed that she melts inside both her chest and her pants with just one look from him.) So, she insisted on how much more swoon-worthy Renly is.

She woke up the next day to find her computer's screensaver and wallpaper both changed into Jaime's selfies, and no trace of Renly/distraction-from-Jaime left in her laptop.

"Karma's a bitch, idiot," she muttered as she glanced at their shared bathroom's door and listened to the hiss of the shower. Jaime won't get out in another twenty minutes.

She clicked on a star icon on his desktop, thinking that should be where he keeps his x-files and other revolting stuff. She frowned when a window popped up, asking for a passcode.

She tried his birthday, Tyrion's, Cersei's, even Tywin's, but they all failed. Already frustrated, she decided to try hers before giving up. Surprisingly, it worked.

Another folder was inside. Then another. And another. And endless folder inside a folder until she ended up on one titled: Blonde and Beautiful.

Rubbing her palms together, she contemplated on where else in his laptop she'll hide his pervy stuff away while making him think that she deleted them all. (Her conscience told her she'll want to put them back eventually.)

She clicked the folder open and one by one, tiny photo thumbnails flashed on the screen. She smirked when she saw all the photos being of blonde girls. But her brows furrowed when she realized they were all obviously dressed... and decent. Although she couldn't make out any of the images, the colors she can actually see were proof enough that the odd folder can't possibly be a porn stash. She frowned as she realized how childish she had been, invading someone's privacy for nothing.

She was about to punch 'backspace', thinking whoever the blonde women were isn't her business, but she accidentally pushed the 'Enter' button.

One photo flashed clearly on the screen. Her heart lurched.

It was her picture. One taken when she still had shoulder-length hair, three years ago.

Unable to understand why Jaime kept her picture hidden deep in his secret folder, her finger involuntarily clicked on the next photos. All of them are of her, just with different hairstyles and poiseless clothes and situations in the past almost four years they spent together in college.

"Wench," she jumped when she heard Jaime's voice from behind her. She frantically shut his laptop and stood up and faced him.

"Sorry, I was just..." She couldn't find any excuse in her mind. Not while she's still trying to understand what she just saw.

He smirked as he walked towards her in his boxers and a white shirt, hair still wet. "I see you've discovered my secret."

She swallowed hard. "W-Why do you have that?"

He stopped just right in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Well, I was hoping I could use some proof when I finally get the courage to tell you."

"P-Proof for what? And tell me what?"

He touched her arm with one hand then cupped her cheek with the other.

"Proof that you I've adored you since day one, even when you don't even make any effort to look attractive," he said in a low voice that made her heart flutter. "And I've been meaning to tell you..."

Instead of finishing, he gently claimed her lips and melted Brienne for good.

Then, he stopped to look into her eyes and whisper, "I'm in love with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still on break from this collection. But for some "personal and fandom reasons" (weiddaydreaminfangirl, 2017)...  
> I just had to force an update.
> 
> (I hope my Jaime didn't seem too stalkerish here.)


	18. For Worse

"Oaths be damned, but for better or worse, I'm staying; and I'm never leaving you again, Ser Jaime," he heard Brienne's calming voice as she gently cleansed his wounds, ever so gently and almost not her kind of gentle that he barely felt her touches -- just before he finally opened his teary eyes, and came back to the reality that he was alone, and she was truly gone forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little revenge to angst writers and readers/lovers who dragged me to some heartbreaking angsty fics. I hope we're just even. :D


	19. Warrior

Miss Tyrell adoringly scanned the room where all her preschool students were peacefully lying down for their afternoon nap. 

She was, however, surprised to find little Jaime in a corner, angrily tying his shoe with difficulty, because a cardboard toy shield on his arm was blocking his view and he wouldn't even temporarily let go of his foam toy sword.

"Jaime, honey?" she called the boy, trying not to laugh at his oh-so-determined face. "Aren't you sleepy yet?"

Jaime looked up to her, emerald eyes blazing, then, he stood up. "I'll sleep later, Miss. But first, I will raid the preschool next door."

He then stomped his tiny foot and pointed his sword at the direction of his sleeping playmate, Brienne. "Nobody can call my maiden a monster!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a photo tweeted by 9gag.  
> This is where parental guidance is most necessary. :D


	20. Courage

When Bronn said yes to going to Tarth with Jaime and Tyrion to support the former in asking for Brienne's hand, he didn't exactly imagine having to deal with the huge Selwyn Tarth sharpening his sword in front of the three of them; so, before the big daddy Tarth could even raise his head to look at them, he was already running to the docks, a wriggling Tyrion on his shoulder, and a puzzled look on his face when he looked back to find Jaime trembling but feet glued to the ground in front of the already grinning future father-in-law.


	21. Home

Aboard a ship headed back home to Tarth to resume her responsibilities as the sole heir, looking back at the mainland she has no plans of ever coming back to, and fighting the urge to swim back ashore and find _him_ to at least say a proper goodbye, Brienne took a deep, painful sigh as she wondered how she'll ever cope with it -- the idea of being home, but still feeling terribly homesick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt a little personal (me and my hormones again). Where is home?


	22. Proof

"We don't want to spoil your surprise, brother, so make sure to get rid of ALL evidence that we've been in Brienne's bedroom. Burn them, if you must," Tyrion told Jaime as they quietly sneaked out of Brienne's room.

Jaime grimaced and gasped, "Get rid and burn!?"

He quickly covered the _hard evidence_ down his crotch with both hands.


	23. Nerves

Jaime paced the tiny backstage space, shaking his hand (and stump) every time he reaches both walls. His best-friend-turned-girlfriend-just-yesterday watched him with much concern from one corner.

"Are you really that nervous?" she asked, grimacing at his dizzying back and forth walk.

He stopped, looked up at her and nervously nodded.

She exhaled as she pulled him close and rubbed his shoulders with her sweaty palms. She was actually nervous herself.

"Relax. You're gonna do great," she assured him, patting his shoulder for emphasis.

He shook his head and licked his now pale lips. "What if the judges get turned off by my stump? What if I forget the lyrics? What if something goes wrong? What if..."

He got cut off by a peck on his lips, rendered speechless by the shock. Since they just started dating, that's their first ever kiss as a real couple and the first one Brienne ever initiated.

"Still scared?" she asked, furiously blushing and apparently embarrassed of what she just did.

Jaime bit the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from grinning.

"I'm still very nervous, wench. Like really really."

She sighed and gave him another, less rushed kiss. He almost groaned when she pulled away.

"How about now?" she asked again with an even redder face.

Trying hard to hide the glint of mischief in his eyes, Jaime dramatically grabbed at his chest and grimaced so.

"I'm absolutely, terribly terrified and scared to my core, wench. I'm shaking in so much fear, I feel like I'm gonna die! Help me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by wackygoofball's edits in JBO.


	24. Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here goes nothing!

Jaime took another glance at the wench, opened his mouth but immediately closed it again, a funny joke caught in his tongue.

He wasn't entirely sure if he's ready to succeed in making Brienne laugh again (a rare occurrence). He might not even be that prepared yet to see another smile from her.

Frustrated, he groaned out loud and looked at her again.

"What is it?" she asked him with an almost equally frustrated voice.

He sighed. "Tyrion's been telling me to make you smile and laugh."

She furrowed her brows. "Why?"

"He said that to make you fall for me, (instead of bugging you) I  should make you laugh more."

She furiously blushed and looked away. But she pretended to be cool about it. "A-And you're bothered by my laugh?"

"What? No! It's just... Whenever you do laugh, _I'm_ the one falling deeper in love."


	25. Full

Brienne hasn't had breakfast or lunch, nor had she touched the chocolates  her students, Myrcella and Tommen had been showering her with, but she felt full enough just staring at the kids' uncle's adam's apple bobbing with every chocolate he swallows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/2 updates. Had been away for days and brought back sunburn and a few updates.


	26. Blonde

"I know you're blonde all over, wench, (I've seen it all in Harrenhal) but don't you think you're just not pretty enough to be this stupid and not realize I've loved you for so long?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/2 updates.


	27. Snoop

Tywin noted how Ms. Tarth had furiously blushed during the whole directors' meeting while his son, Jaime, kept glaring at her.

Something big must have happened between them. In all the years of being what they like to refer to as "just friends", never had Tywin seen Jaime this mad at the tall woman. It had always been the other way around.

Once the meeting had been adjourned, Ms. Tarth immediately mumbled a quick "Mr. Lannister" at him and dashed out. Not even a second after, Jaime darted after her.

The other directors, not as unafraid as the two who had already left, would be waiting until Tywin had been long gone from the meeting room before they would all take their leave. That had given the Lannister patriarch the liberty to stand quietly in the hallway and listen to the arguing voices on the other side of the fire exit door.

_"You're avoiding me."_

_"_ _I am not."_ Ms. Tarth really is such a bad liar.

 _"Bullshit!"_ The sound of a wall being hit sounded through the door.  _"I woke up to find my bed empty yesterday morning. I've been calling and trying to find you all day yesterday and this morning; but you couldn't be bothered to answer and you'd locked yourself in your fucking office."_

Tywin shook his head at how ridiculous and clingy his son sounded.

_"We made a mistake, Jaime. That's it."_

_"Mistake!? We're both consenting adults, unmarried and single! How is that a fucking mistake?"_

Tywin heard an exasperated sigh. The Tarth heiress really is as stubborn as her father was.

"I _know what I look like Jaime. I know you wouldn't have done what you did if you had been sober. And I wouldn't have done it either if..."_

Several seconds of silence went by until someone gasped.  _"Jaime, what are you..."_

A long and shaky moan followed, then the sound of ripping and scattering buttons startled the eavesdropping man.

He looked back at his secretary who was quietly waiting for him to move forward. "Call security and have all the cameras in this hallway and inside this door turned off."

When the secretary left, barely audible mumbles and more gasps could be heard. _"I must've... too drunk... I didn't properly... fuck... stubborn brain out. But see if... I don't do... just... now."_

Tywin gave one last look at the door that even shook with a resounding bang on it. One even longer moan followed by a muffled scream had been his cue to move.

He walked back to the conference room deciding what positions he would need to make vacant once the next Lannister cubs are born.

 


	28. Witness

Edd knew he had a tendency to be pessimistic about almost everything; but he believed it's merely being realistic for him to assume that Tormund's advances on the Southron lady knight are a lost cause, since on one occasion, he noted that while the blonde lady looked so focused on the King in the North speaking out front, her hand had sneaked and grabbed the one good hand of the Kingslayer, who in turn intertwined their perfect fit fingers and stupidly assumed that no one saw their not-so-secret display of affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To fit it in one sentence is hell. Just imagine how they'd hold hands. >.< I tried my best.


	29. Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to an eskimo out there named december: No teasing yet. Gimme time.

"Dadadadadadadada!" the blue-eyed babe gibberishly screamed as he tugged hard at the golden hair of the man by his tiny crib.

He cooed and gargled as the blonde man laughed and gently removed the boy's hand from his hair. He found a few strands left between his tiny fingers.

"Dada!"

"I'm not Dada, Gall. Dada's probably hanging out with Mama, debating about whose strength you took after that you can pull this hard at Uncle Tyrion's hair. Then, your Dada would most likely brag about how many more wights he finished than your Mama..."

Little Galladon gave him a toothless grin while Tyrion's hearty chuckle turned into a sigh.

"They're probably watching you from somewhere exciting there in the Seven heavens." The boy gazed with wide wondering eyes as Tyrion sadly smiled. "Those giant shits are surely banging up there while I'm here dealing with King Galladon's pee and poo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. With all the tortures from the other fics that I've read, I couldn't squeeze much from my brain.


	30. Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear december,
> 
> I am not doing this again.
> 
> Sincerely,  
>  Ruby

“She gifted me with a really great fic. I was so happy I told her I’ll give her a gift, too.”

“Well, then it’s your fault, wench. You promised… What was her name again?”

“EskimAwesome.”

“Yeah, that weird-named chick… You promised her a fic, you gotta write it. You’re always the honorable one. Why are you even sulking?”

“BECAUSE!!!”

“Because?”

“She wants a smutty one!”

“Oookay. And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’? You know I’ve never written smut! I’ve only ever slept with one ass of a guy and I don’t even want to remember how that happened anymore. How am I supposed to write about something I don’t know?”

“You read that type of fanfiction, right?”

“Well, I-I do.”

“Then you’re not completely clueless. Maybe you can Google tips and how-to’s as well.”

“Ugh! I already did. And I regretted ever searching about it.”

“Why?”

“One post said I… I should try imagining doing it m-myself. Or better yet… try to actually do it... myself. Because if I can’t, uh, manage it, chances are my characters can’t either.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t think I can argue on that.”

“Exactly! So I really can’t fulfill that promise. EA will think I’m horrible.”

 

_*silence*_

 

“How about… Uh, what if I help you?”

“Really? You’ll do that? Oh, gods! You’re the best roommate ever. Wait. Do you know how to write smut?”

 

_*silence again*_

 

“I’m no writer, wench.”

 

_*more silence*_

 

“But, how will you… Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. I’ll help you get an ‘o’, wench.”

 

_*a whole lot more silence*_

 

 “Wait, Jaime, no. I, this is… It’s just fanfiction. We don’t… You don’t…” _*sigh*_

“I do, wench… I want to… I’ve always wanted to.”

“W-what? You want... mm…Oh!”

“Yes, wench. I want. I want you.”

“Jaime.”

“Yes. Keep saying that.”

“Mmm…hmm?”

“You can scream… too… like in… smut. Fuck!”

“O-Okay. And… And then?”

“Keep… doing… wench! How…”

“The article said… I should… watch too. Am… doing it right?”

“Seven hells! You are.”

“W-What else?”

“T- Try to… questions… later.”

“But…”

 “We… another round… for answers.”

_*gasp*_ “A-another round? We haven’t even…mmmmmnn.”

“We will. Fuck! We will.”

“Mmmmmmm, h-hokay. Stop talking now and start… Oh, gods! That feels… Oh, gods! Jaime!!!”


	31. Awe

"Uncle Jaime?" Myrcella nudged at her uncle who was half-kneeling in front of her while staring at her tall, blonde first grade teacher. "If you just finish tying up my shoelace now instead of fidgeting with it, and just _temporarily_ quit offering your eyeballs to Miss Tarth, you can already go talk to her and get her number before our class starts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've ran out of ideas... Next update might take time. Can muses be loaned?


	32. Stolen

Brienne quietly sat on a stool beside Jaime’s bed, staring guiltily at his bruised, shivering body, his pale features and his purplish cracked lips. She sighed soundlessly, careful not to wake him.

  
The maester had reassured her repeatedly that his injuries were not fatal enough for such an experienced knight as him. The fever not going down was most likely caused by the worsening cold Northern air. He only needs enough warmth and a lot of rest.

  
Her mind wanted to trust the healer's judgment and Jaime’s own strength; but something in her chest kept feeling like being torn by wights they have yet to vanquish every moment she sees him lying helplessly in bed, waiting for his full recovery. After all, she had been the one unable to argue with him when he insisted that she wear his furs on their journey back from that bloody fight against the Others.

  
He stirred and moved uncomfortably in his sleep. Brienne quickly stood up, pulled his covers up to his neck and wiped the sweat on his forehead with her hand.

  
As she was about to return to her seat, his lips slightly parted and caught her eye. She had to swallow hard at the sudden dryness of her throat. Despite being all blue and chapped, his mouth was still as beautiful as everything in him on better days.

  
It felt dishonorable and wrong, but she wanted to kiss him, to feel the warmth of those tiny clouds of sweetness with her own lips. He was once again part a corpse, but right now, he was mostly a tempting golden god. It was too overwhelming that she had to look away. Although it only took him seconds to lure her eyes back to his delectable mouth.

  
Biting her own chapped lip, she reminded herself that such fantasies are only allowed for delicate, pretty ladies; and she was not delicate nor pretty, not even a real lady. And there is no honor in stealing a kiss from an unaware man.

  
She had to move and run away. But instead of getting up, she found her arms leaning on the bed's edge as her face loomed over his. She surveyed his peaceful face as his breath warmed hers. _Can’t she forget about honor just this once?_

  
No. She can’t.

  
And yet her lips ended up touching his.

  
Afraid that the slightest touch of air could rouse him, she stopped breathing. She didn’t move an inch. Her eyes involuntarily closed as she felt through both their cracked lips a hint of the Seventh heaven. Her mind prayed to all the gods for a few more seconds of his unconsciousness. Just a few more seconds.

  
She gently pulled away and waited for a rush of regret, a mob of people who would persecute her for this outrageous action, him waking up and pushing her away in disgust. Nothing but a furious blush on her face came.

  
But she knew she had to leave lest she would want another taste.

  
She stood up and turned to leave, her mind memorizing the exact life scene she would remember once the Stranger decides to take her.

  
Guilty as she was of taking advantage of Jaime’s sickness, she smiled on her way out of his room.

  
Unbeknownst to her, the man she just left had the same smile himself.


	33. Protection

Jaime slowly walked towards and from behind his new wife who was nervously removing the too many pieces of her wedding garments beside the bed; then, he wrapped both arms around her wide waist, making sure she felt the bump in his pants where all his blood ragingly rushed to and stayed at since the start of the ceremony earlier, kissed one shoulder and gently bit one blushing ear as he teasingly whispered, "Wife, I'm certain I'm strong enough to protect you from the wights. But I can't guarantee I can protect you from me tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that Pinterest and Daryl Dixon teach me. I hope my Jaime didn't scare Brienne (much?).


	34. Royals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here goes more nothing!

“… the Beauty!”

“She tried so hard.”

“Yeah, but she should have just gone all the way.”

“I know! She’ll never get a chance like that again.”

The snickers, the murmurs, the not-so-subtle talks behind her back – Brienne endured all these as she passed through the crowded school corridors towards the detention office. She tried to keep a blank face as she fought the resurfacing of the image in her head -- that of the laughing faces of the boys who joined the bet and everyone who knew about it. Her heart was in shatters but gods be damned if she'd let anyone see that. Grinding her teeth, she silently wished that she did more than just break Hyle's jaw.

_If only her father was still around to reassure her about words being wind. If only life was just a little bit easier for the insecure fifteen year-old lumbering ugly beast she is._

“Block them all out.” She was startled by a guy who suddenly appeared beside her and stuck an earphone in her ear, the other end of which was still in his.

 _Lannister._ She bit her tongue to prevent starting another endless exchange of insults with him. (Well, more like he'd insult her and she'd only scowl). She wasn't up for that today. Besides, she had already accepted that she would never win against this expert verbal tormentor. After all, his clever mouth had earned him the title "Detention King"; how could stuttering, tongue-tied Brienne compete with that?

"You headed to detention, too, wench?"

She kept her mouth shut and waited for him to bring up the degrading incident with the other high school boys. But he didn't.

The gasps and murmurs of the other students rang in her ears again, but it was evidently for this new "talk of the town" -- the Detention King and the Beauty.

Jaime seemed to have succeeded at blocking them all out though.

"Aren't you wondering why I'm going to detention again?" he asked, his annoying smugness poking at Brienne's patience again. Still, she stayed silent. "You only managed to swipe at Hyle Cunt, wench. So, I finished off Connington for you. Now, I'm going to detention... with you."

He was even grinning proudly at her.

Brienne's brows spiked into a deep vee as her eyes widened. "What? Why did you do that?"

Instead of replying immediately, he grabbed her hand, intertwined their fingers and walked on, pulling her with him. She tried to pull her hand back but he gripped harder.

Now, she's too distracted to hear the people around them.

"I-I asked you a question, Lannister."

He stopped right in front of the detention office and faced her, his stupid grin on  display again, and his hand still tightly gripping hers.

"You've never been in detention, wench, and I'm aware of how boring and lonely it could get in here. So, I'm going to accompany you. "

He opened the office door but before going inside, he turned to her again and whispered. "I was also thinking about getting myself a detention queen."

 

 


	35. Slayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a Nora Roberts novel -- A World Apart.

Jaime swallowed after gaping for so long at the ugly, blonde woman that just got out of his kitchen wall -- at least, what used to be his kitchen wall. He looked at a wide hole that replaced the bricks and served as a portal to gods-know-where. On the other side was a breathtaking waterfall bedazzled with diamonds and sapphires instead of just rocks.

 

Nervous, he returned his gaze to his very tall and freckly visitor who in turn frowned at his obviously confused face. "Who... What the fuck are you?"

 

She stood to her full height and made evident the few inches she had on him.

 

"I am Brienne of House Tarth, first of my name, warrior, protector of the realm, descendant of Duncan the demon-slayer. I am a demon-slayer myself."

 

The woman then pulled out the sword by her side making Jaime stumble backwards in surprise. He caught himself and leaned on the kitchen sink, trembling at the sight of the sharp blade before him.

 

Luckily, she only laid the sword on the floor before her as she bent her knee and bowed to him.

  


Still, it took Jaime everything to not freak out at the oddity of it all.  _Because it's really freakish!_  

  


Moreover, as if being taller and more muscled than Jaime isn't weird enough, _the woman had to wear an all leather and metal bikini ensemble!_

 

Gods be good, he could die either by a possible explosion inside his pants or just staring at those strong, long legs. And ugly as she was, her cerulean eyes bragged an out-of-this-world beauty -- displaying themselves as portals of their own, sucking Jaime in.

 

Since Jaime didn't know how to respond to her salutation, Brienne stood up again and pointed her sword at the hole to close the portal and change it back to Jaime's kitchen wall.

  


Amazement and disbelief made Jaime shake his head. He pinched his thigh to confirm he wasn't dreaming. He winced at the confirmation.

  


"Uh, Brienne of house..." He already forgot her awfully long name so he settled with the first thing that came to his mind. "Wench. Your name's a fucking paragraph. Why are you here... In my world?"

  


It was an utterly ridiculous thing to let out of his mouth but the unexpected saddening of her expression was enough to distract Jaime from the weirdness of his present situation.

  


"I made a mistake," Brienne muttered with such regretful eyes.

_  
_

_Gods, her eyes._

  


Her jaw tensed as she continued, "I was tricked into releasing a pack of demons from their confinement into this world."  


  


Jaime's brows furrowed. His brain was still trying to digest the information about another world, and already this woman was going on about prisoner demons being at large in his world -- possibly in Westeros.

  


"These... demons, you say... Are they dangerous or something?" he inquired.

  


He saw her knuckles turning white as she gripped the hilt of her sword. "Deadly. One hit from a demon can kill ten smallfolks."

  


Jaime reached for a nearby glass and pitcher of water. He poured himself a drink as he shuddered at the possibility of not one but a whole pack of mass murderers possibly lurking around King's Landing. If the demons used the same portal Brienne had, this part of  _his_ realm is in danger.

  


As he was drinking to calm his nerves though, Brienne was looking intently at the glass, curiosity distracting her from her previous concern.

  


"Wench," he startled her before she could forget why exactly she was there. "Do you know where to find these monsters?"

  


She couldn't tear her eyes away from the glass but she replied, "My septa sent me here to find my human guide -- a lannister who goes by the name Jaime."

  


Jaime choked on the water he was just drinking again. "What?!"

  


He put the glass down the sink so Brienne was finally able to look at Jaime in the eye again.

  


"Tell me, human, what does a lannister do? What exactly is lannisting?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I know. I kept you hanging in there. But c'mon, the plot's too big and complicated for poor Ruby. And my muse is still lazing around.
> 
> So, lezz just keep this one a ficlet. Hmm? Thanks! Love lots!


	36. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A late contribution to JB Week Day 1- Silver.  
> Update 1/2

Jaime stared quietly at the heart tree, eyes full of awe at the beauty of it. He watched as another leaf fell from the lowest branch then gave in to his earlier urge to scratch his balding head.

“It really is magnificent, isn’t it?” he said with a hoarse voice before turning to the silver-haired woman standing next to his chair.

He realized he didn’t know the woman so he looked at her from head to toe, and narrowed his eyes to see a little bit clearer. She must have been some warrior in her youth – her build looked like it. Her nose was slightly broken; her mouth was quite large with lips too thick and dry. Even if she weren’t as wrinkled as she is now, he knew she still wouldn’t look pleasant. But the way she looked at him made his heart feel calm.

He had a blurry recollection that she had pushed his chair to this spot before the tree but he still couldn’t remember her.

“Who are you?” he finally asked.

The woman gave him a little smile but looked away quickly. She hid her face away from him but he knew she had wiped her cheek with her sleeve.

“What is the matter, m’lady?”

The woman took a deep breath then kissed the top of his head before slowly kneeling before him. She gathered his hands to her lips with her eyes closed.

“Nothing, hus- m’lord,” she replied.

Her voice sounded familiar but the voice he knew wasn’t that hoarse. _Still, whose voice was that?_

The woman opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyes were the bluest ones he had ever seen. They looked clearer up close. And they were stunning.

“D-Do I know you, m’lady?” he asked again, frustrated that his head seems to keep forgetting things as simple as this.

His father would surely chastise him if this keeps up. He was already bad at reading; he should at least be good at memorizing and remembering things.

His thoughts were interrupted when the woman caressed his cheek.

“It doesn’t matter,” she told him. _What was it that he asked her again?_

He remembered.

“It does matter, m’lady,” he insisted. “I feel like I should… I do know you.”

Another falling leaf distracted him and he took a glance at the magnificent tree again.

He looked back at the woman who surprised him by saying, “I love you, Jaime.”

The blur in his head was there again but he focused on her eyes and recalled looking at the same eyes while standing before this same tree. But those eyes belonged to a blonde head, not a silver one.

He held her hand closer to his face and smiled at her.

He still couldn’t recall who she was, but she said that she loved him.

It felt only right to reply the first thing that came to his mind.

“I love you more, wench.”


	37. Restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update 2/2.
> 
> I hope putting "gold" somewhere in here makes this one qualify as contribution to JB Week Day 2. :D
> 
> (ETA: I forgot to put a chapter title because I couldn't think of any. Sorry)

Two nights of being kept awake by the fucking blaring sounds of firetrucks passing by had already wrung out Sandor. Next to fire itself, he really hated the blasted sirens since they meant there’s fire somewhere close. He cursed the sounds even more for the last two consecutive nights.

  
Tonight though, the silence all over the tenement where he lived felt divine. He never believed in gods but he thanked whoever was up there who allowed him to have this long-awaited quiet. Tonight, he’s free to enjoy a fucking good night’s sleep.

  
Until he heard a familiar voice shouting drunkenly just outside of his door.

  
“No! _You_ really are my best friend ever! In the whole world!”

  
He knew that voice but he never really heard it hollering that loud. Brienne Tarth, his neighbor next door had never been the shouty type. But he’s sure as fuck, it was the big bitch's voice.

  
_Why in seven hells is she screaming?_

  
The next slurry cry of a man answered his question.

  
“No, wench! _You_ are my bestest friend in the whole wide world!”

  
It was Jaime Fucking Lannister, the idiot who always comes around whenever Tarth had a broken faucet, or a broken bathroom door, or a smashed window, or whatever ruined fuck the two idiots could invent so neighbors wouldn’t suspect that they really just like to be together all the fucking time.

  
Sandor would’ve assumed that they’ve already fucked a long time ago but with the way they act around each other when other people (like Sandor himself) are around, he knew they've never gone past fake no-malice hugs. The big woman always blushes furiously when they’re out together, pretending not to ogle at the pretty boy; then the golden idiot always teases her, saying it’s what best friends do when he’s obviously looking hungrily at his wench more often than not. Their let’s-still-be-just-friends-although-we-want-to-fuck game had been giving Sandor headaches for weeks now.

  
Especially tonight when they seem to be having a drunken competition of screaming about who’s the best friend of whom. _Fucking fucktards_.

  
“Really, though, Jaime… You are my bestest of bestest of bestest friend.”

  
“No!! That’s really you, Brienne! You’re my most treasured and favorite and only beeeeest friend in the whole universe.”

  
_The fuuuuck! Let your fucking neighbors fucking sleep!_

  
Sandor's head was already pounding with the effect of his sleepless nights. He didn’t want to get up any longer though, if it’s just to shoo off the noisy dumbasses outside.

  
“I swear, Lannister, that’s YOU!”

  
“It is YOU, wench!”

  
_Fucking hells._

  
Sandor got up and strode out to tie the two idiots together, lock them in a coffin and throw them into a faraway ocean. He swung his door open and found them sitting on the corridor, leaning on the tall bitch's door.

  
“If you don’t want to sleep, LET YOUR FUCKING NEIGHBORS GET THEIR OWN REST!”

  
He howled louder than any hound the world had ever heard.

  
But the two idiots only glanced at him once then looked back at each other again.

  
Tarth started murmuring barely audible words. “Sandor… agree with me, idiot. You… my little taste of… of heavens and best… friend!”

  
Sandor was about to shout at them again, sure as hell that Lannister wouldn’t let the woman have the last word.

  
The golden idiot didn’t speak though; he just kept staring straight into his wench's eyes.

  
Sandor's scream stayed stuck in his throat.

  
Seconds later, he swallowed said scream in slight shock – Lannister kissed Tarth… long, hard, demanding.

  
_Finally?_

  
He didn’t need to witness what’s to come next so he turned around and got back inside his apartment.

  
“Get up,” he heard Lannister say before he heard Tarth's door open then bang shut.

_Oh, wait._

  
Grimacing to himself, Sandor brushed a rough palm on his scarred face. He realized that he still can’t sleep well tonight.

  
There’d be a different and more scandalous screaming next-door later.


	38. Maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >.<  
> I hate my brain. I was only able to write two things for JB Week. I wrote another one for Ruby day but it's totally stuck rn (C'mon brain! It's for Ruby! Ugh!) Now I can't get anything else out of my barren brain.
> 
> For now, let me just get this tiny thing out.

“Do you ever wonder what you could have been today had we not met? Do you think you’d still be with the Kingsguard; or maybe… with your sister… and your children? Maybe you would have been Lord of Casterly Rock now, or… or even the one sitting on the Iron Throne. Had we not met, you would still have your hand. Maybe you would not have been this forgotten warrior now, exiled to Essos and married to the ugliest maid in Westeros. D-Do you have any regrets, Jaime?”

“I know only one thing I would be had we never met, wife.”

“What is that?”

“A very unhappy man.”


	39. Emergency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exchange of text messages between the Lannister brothers.

> **Tyrion** : Meeting startd 5 mins ago. Wer ru?
> 
> _**Jaime** : pantry_
> 
> **Tyrion** : Wtf ru doin n d pantry?
> 
> _**Jaime** : filling up hot compress w water n making hot choco_
> 
> **Tyrion** : wat 4?
> 
> **Tyrion** : Father’s lookin 4 u
> 
> _**Jaime** : wench. Need to go to clinic for pain meds too_
> 
> **Tyrion** : dat tym of month?
> 
> **Tyrion** : wat do I tell father? He abt 2 kill me 4 ur absence. UR absence!
> 
> _**Jaime** : yes. She’s being stubborn and wouldn’t let me take care of her. Even lied that she’s not on her period yet._
> 
> **Tyrion** : WAT DO I TELL FATHER?!!!
> 
> _**Jaime** : but I know it’s already time cause my phone app told me so. I know her cycle. And don’t yell. I told you there’s wench emergency._
> 
> **Tyrion** : We r txting. I cant yell.
> 
> _**Jaime** : wench groaning in pain now. Have to go._
> 
> **Tyrion** : Jaime! Save me from Father first!
> 
> **Tyrion** : !!!!!!
> 
> **Tyrion** : w8! U have app 4 Bri’s mens cycle???
> 
> **Tyrion** : And u 2 still say ur pla2nic?
> 
> **Tyrion** : !!!!!!
> 
> **Tyrion** : Im tellin Father ur dating Brienne!


	40. Slayer 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Slayer. You might want to reread that drabble inspired by A World Apart by Nora Roberts.
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10937226/chapters/26539806
> 
> Warning: Just like the first drabble, you might feel like I left you hanging here. Sorry.  
> If I'm lucky tho, I might go on with this drabble sequence. If... *sighs*

The strange man with the soft golden mane had claimed that he is the lannister named Jaime, the one who can help her find the escapee demons she let out into this world, the warrior who will take those prisoners back to Sapphyr, her world. Brienne could only stare at him, wondering how such man – one who cannot even properly catch water with his perfectly fine hand and needs a fancy crystal container for such a simple task as drinking – is the Warrior's chosen seeker. Maybe her septa is wrong. He could not even take a good look at her fine sword without trembling. Although he seems to take too many glances at her stomach, her arms and legs, and most of all, her eyes.

  
Maybe he prefers fighting with one’s own body than using weapons.

  
But that does not matter. He must start his lannisting responsibilities immediately. _Lannisting is seeking, is it not?_

  
“Lannister is a family name,” the man chuckled when she said her last thought out loud. “My father is _the_ Mr. Lannister, another one is my brother. My sister used to be one, but since she’s married now she took on another family name. Lannisting… no such thing, _yet_ … I might think of where to use that word later. But Lannister is not a job. Well, it is, especially with my father but… well, that’s a story for another time.”

  
This lannister is too talkative for a seeker. Family name or job, he is the lannister named Jaime. They should already start looking for the prisoners before they do any damage to this poor realm.

  
“You truly must save that tale for another day, lannister. We have to find the demons first.”

  
“Jaime,” he said. “I told you, Lannister is my family name. My name is Jaime, wench.”

  
She frowned at him and scoffed, “Well, call me Brienne then. I am a warrior, not a wench.”

  
Brienne looked around the lannister's lair and found a portal with a similar crystalline material as the water container Jaime used. She gently knocked on it, noticing that on the other side, giant trees with horribly smooth trunks and no leaves stood grimly, as soulless as the demons she needed to find.

  
“Where does this portal lead to?” She faced Jaime, her hand ready to pull her sword from its sheath to break the portal’s barrier.

  
Jaime’s eyes widened in panic and he frantically ran to stand between Brienne and the portal.

  
“Don’t!” he exclaimed. “It's not a portal. It’s just a window. It won’t lead you to that building, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  
As he blabbered about the portal leading to death if she ever thought about jumping out from it, Brienne searched in her head what a building and a window meant. A crone from Sapphyr made sure to send with her a piece of basic knowledge about Westeros. The sad trees were buildings. As for window, it is not a portal to another world.

  
“They wouldn’t have passed through something like this then,” she concluded.

  
Jaime exhaled relief, glanced at his window, now safe from her sword, then replied, “If they did, they’d have broken bones and severed limbs after falling from the twentieth floor.

  
“Where can they possibly go then?”

  
“We'll figure that out. That’s where we can use my actual job. I'm a private investigator, if you must know.” He ran a hand through his hair that made Brienne wonder how it would feel to do the same – run her own hand through such soft locks. “You're in luck that I left my job in the corporate world where the other Lannisters are. If I hadn’t, I’d have been as useless as your clothes.”

  
Brienne's brows drew together. “Why... You think my clothes useless? They cover enough and let me move faster when I fight.”

  
Jaime's shoulders moved up and down as he walked towards his long, soft sitting space and placed a silk cloth bag on his lap.

  
“Your clothes certainly don’t cover enough,” he mumbled. “If they did, I wouldn’t have to hide my... _reaction_.”

  
If he was trying to not have her hear him, he’s a fool. “What reaction?”

  
He shook his head and smiled. “The demons first. Distract me with something else other than that distraction you’re currently displaying.”

  
_What in the seven hells is this man saying?_

  
“We have to go out if you ever want to find those demons,” he went on, now serious.

  
She readily turned back to the window but he pulled her by the arm, frustrated.

  
“Not there! I told you, that’s a portal to death. And you need to get dressed properly first. You have to blend in.”

  
He went to another part of his lair and came back out, carrying what the crone's knowledge referred to as shirt and pants. “Wear this.”

  
They argued about it but in the end, he won since he was right about having to blend in. A longer argument ensued about leaving her sword before going out. They compromised by making her wear a much longer cloak-like garment he called a coat to conceal the sword. _These humans obsess too much about clothing._

  
“Before we go, I need to take you to Sapphyr first,” she told him after remembering an important ritual for warriors. “For cleansing. We both need that before we face the demons.”

  
Jaime swallowed hard. “We won’t be meeting scary creatures there, I hope.”

  
“I do not know what would scare you, but I believe you will be safe enough as long as you stay with me.”

  
He nodded nervously and stepped back, anticipating that Brienne should pull out her sword again.

  
Brienne opened a portal again with her sword. But before passing through she turned to Jaime for a forgotten warning.

  
“I need to warn you. I've been banned for using stags for transportation.” He looked surprised and terrified at the same time but she ignored his grimace. “We have to ride lions to take us to our destination.”

  
His brows shot up at that. “You ride lions in your world?”

  
“Only female ones. The male ones are too huge and slow.”

  
“Uh, well, ever fancied riding a male one for the first time? Maybe in this world?"

She inhaled deeply and chose to ignore such nonsense and the mischievous grin on his face. She needed this Lannister, she cannot beat him into a pulp just for his irritating mouth.

"We are to go to a sacred place. Keep your mouth shut."

"What? We could make an actual definition for ‘lannisting’!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to thank Isola and Elle for their comments on the first drabble that prompted the idea for the ending of this one. Comments give me life.


	41. Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got tagged by weirddaydreamingfangirl for the Friday fast fic. It's not Friday anymore (or yet) tho. Also I've already broken all the rules (Word count's almost twice the set limit. Uh oh). So I'm posting now, too late and too early.
> 
> The word is 'void'. (Much like my brain which hasn't been letting me write shit since 2 months ago. xD)
> 
> Angst warning!!!!
> 
> Here ya go.

A white veil floats in the air as it gets carried by the wind away from the old bell tower, farther away from the tall woman standing by the tower’s window. Had it been any quieter, one may hear the satisfying sound of ripping of a gown’s trail just before another piece of cloth flies out the window.

  
A little satisfaction, it was all the woman wishes for -- and maybe a little of her dignity restored equal to every stride she had made towards the sept door earlier… and a bit of freedom from this cruel world to every step she had climbed to the top of the tower. She starts to pray silently, only to stop, contemplating if the Seven truly do exist. And asking that if they do, then how come all seven seems to have refused to spare a bit of attention for her. A little company in her time of need, perhaps.

  
None of the guests even stayed that long. Nobody saw the strength she hoped to display exiting the sept without a single tear. Everyone must still be laughing at the poor, ugly bride whose groom never showed up.

  
She wonders if this was simply another stunt, just bigger and grander, to make fun of her already ridiculous self. Still, there’s a relief in knowing she’s not tied to a man whom she’ll never love nor will ever love her. Besides, the one who had fixed up all this is not present anymore to witness this farce of a union. A month before the ceremony, her old man decided it was alright to leave his daughter with her husband-to-be and finally lie beside the long gone love of his life.

  
“Alone again...” she sings softly with a bitter laugh as she wipes the only tear she let escape and run down her scarred cheek, looks out the window and the far concrete ground below. “...naturally.”

  
That was her father’s favorite song. Or at least she assumes it was. He used to hum that same song every morning since she was a child. He must have felt that lonely all his life -- just like the man in that song. Just like her.

  
Technically, they had each other. Only there are too many voids in the world no one and nothing can ever fill.

  
As she swallows the painful lump in her throat, the woman pulls up the now ruined skirts of her gown and pushes a knee against the window sill.

  
“I came here to die first,” a voice startles her and she stops from hauling herself up the ledge.

  
A grim-looking, one-handed man appears from behind the big, old bell, green eyes glaring at her, blonde and silver hair and beard reminding her of the beauty she lacks.

“Come back some other time but let me die alone today,” he demands of her, making her scowl at the seemingly entitled man.

  
The image of unceremoniously throwing the man out the window forms in her head but she shakes the thought away as she closes her eyes shut with a deep sigh.

  
She doesn’t speak nor budge even as she feels him approaching.

  
“I’ve been coming here every day for a whole month,” he growls lowly as he stops right in front of her. “The day comes when I finally decide to end it and you come here to ruin it for me.”

  
Unthinking, she opens her eyes to glare back and blurts out, “Why? Why do you want to die?”

  
She thinks she sounded pathetic -- as if she wants to compare their miseries and insist that whoever is more miserable should jump first. Still, her glower doesn’t falter.

  
Their eyes meet and the man suddenly looks taken aback. Somehow, his expression softens and he looks away.

  
“Y-You really want to know?” he asks. It must have surprised him that she did. She nods in reply so he says, “I’m tired of living alone. Hundreds of people who claim to be friends and family, but I’m still alone.”

  
The slight poke she felt in her chest must have shown in her face because he now looks more confident to look her in the eye. She shouldn’t, but something in the way he looks at her makes her feel that, as misunderstood as he was, he’ll understand her.

  
“So am I,” she whispers. Telling him feels right. “Only I don’t think I’m brave enough or scared enough to die.”

  
He slightly raises his handless arm as if to reach for her but he pulls back.

  
“You could... We...” he stutters.

  
An idea flashes in her mind and before reason could stop her, she gasps, “Do you want to die together?”

  
His face scrunches in surprise; then it breaks into a smile. Then he laughs like it’s the first time he had in years, even going as far as slapping his thighs.

  
Smiling and laughing looks so good on him but its timing baffles her. She merely frowns at him.

  
When he finally stops laughing, he quietly stares at her for a long while.

  
“Would you consider coming here with me every day for a month… before we decide on that?” he asks, looking almost hopeful. “I’m Jaime, if you must know.”

  
Stunned, she only blinks at him.

  
“B-Brienne.”

  
“I think I can endure one more month, Brienne," he tells her. “Give life one last chance.”

  
She bites her lip, thinking hard. Maybe he also thinks she understands. Maybe life won’t hurt any worse if she gives it that last chance.

  
“Sounds… good. Some company might do us some good before we die.”

  
“Or live.” He smiles again.

  
She nods. “Or live.”


	42. Search

Brienne silently groaned as she stopped walking for a while to rest her already aching feet. She had been walking all over the grocery store, looking for her husband, while pushing around a heavy cart that contained stuff that mostly weren’t even hers.

  
“Where the hell is that idiot?” she murmured irately while stretching her legs, preparing to start walking again.

  
Last she saw her wanderer husband, he was looking at some electric razors, pondering out loud whether he should already get rid of his beard. She’d rather he didn’t but she didn’t bother telling him that because: 1. The choice is his, and 2. She still needs to find a few more things they need at home. When she went back to the aisle where she left him, he was already gone. It wasn’t a busy time for the store and there were only a few other women – mothers and elderly ladies – but locating her man was surprisingly difficult.

  
Luckily, at the far end of the aisle where she was, she spotted a large man with very red hair and beard. She sighed relief upon seeing him and started walking to where he was, a small smile appearing on her face as the man grinned largely at her.

  
“Hey,” she heard him say.

  
She stopped just a few feet from him and made sure the cart stood between the two of them. Her hands were already on her hips and her smile was slowly fading into pursed lips.

  
Suddenly, a blond man squeezed himself between Brienne and the cart, blocking her view of the red-headed stranger.

  
“What are you doing, smiling at another guy while I’m gone, wench, hmm?” the blond man demanded, mirroring her stance – hands on hips, forehead almost touching hers, and a familiar frown on his face.

  
“I've been looking for you for almost an hour, Jaime,” Brienne replied with a scowl. “And I wasn’t smiling at him, idiot. I was smiling at my brilliant idea of how to find you quickly.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed.

  
Brienne ignored him and went to speak with the man on the other side of the cart who looked puzzled at what was happening.

“I'm sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to be rude and sort of use you like that. My idiot husband wandered off and I lost him.”

  
Both Jaime and the man had baffled looks on their faces so Brienne explained further.

“Whenever I speak with another man, he magically reappears so fast from out of nowhere.”


	43. Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is crack I've written almost a year ago. Crack. So please forgive me for the OOC-ness.

Jaime quirked a brow when he saw his colleague/gym buddy/blue-eyed wench best friend frantically pacing the hallway to his father’s office. She was wringing her hands, grimacing every time she glances at Tywin Lannister's door.  
  
“Brienne?”  
  
She jumped upon hearing his voice. “Jaime!”  
  
Her voice was obviously feigning enthusiasm. She almost paled at the sight of him and her smile was unusually showing her crooked teeth.  
  
“What’s wrong, wench?” he asked, his lips pursed and eyes squinting at her.  
  
She opened her mouth, hesitated then stammered. “N-Nothing. Just… nothing.”  
  
Her twitchy mouth and her ever terrible lying skills are proof enough that _that_ isn't nothing.  
  
But he has to talk to his father first. His agenda was urgent; urgent enough for Jaime to have the guts to go to Tywin's office without calling ahead.

He'd just have to make Brienne spill it out later.  
  
"I'll just speak to my father first, then..."  
  
“What? No. Uh, don’t go there!” Brienne interrupted. She became more jittery when he motioned towards his father’s office.  
  
“No! No! No!” she protested while gripping his arm and shaking her head so much he almost felt dizzy for her.  
  
He furrowed his brows. “What is wrong, wench?”  
  
She opened her mouth once again but shut it again and kept silent this time. Instead, she just shook her head some more and bit her lip. She didn’t even react to his calling her wench twice.  
  
“Did you see father take a woman there? Is that why you’re all tensed?” He glanced at Tywin's office and saw the door half-open. “My mother’s been dead for years, wench. It’s no news that my father will find someone else to fulfill his… needs.”  
  
He wanted to sound cool about it but the image of the scary Tywin Lannister romancing a woman was at the very least… unbearable. But the Lannister patriarch is nothing if not the uptight kind of businessman. He can't possibly do as Tyrion does, shamelessly mixing work and "women".  
  
“It's not a woman. Or… I… I don’t know,” Brienne stuttered again.  
  
Already getting curious at what was making Brienne this nervous, Jaime gently got her hand off him and headed to Tywin's office.  
  
However as soon as his back was turned on Brienne, he felt a hard yank at his arm and found himself pressed against the wall.   
  
Before he could question what she did that for, Brienne was already grabbing him by his shirt, her lips already crushing his.  
  
 _Seven hells. Heavens?_  
  
He gasped and left his eyes wide open in shock.  
  
But that didn’t stop him from enjoying how her lips felt on his – soft, warm and sweet. He eventually closed his eyes but that was when she pulled back. He cursed inwardly at the breakup of their mouths.  
  
She swallowed hard. “Shit. I… I'm…”  
  
She didn’t finish what she wanted to say. Instead, she slowly walked away from Jaime, eyes wide and obviously still as shocked as Jaime with what she just did.  
  
Jaime was about to call her back when he heard a squeal from inside Tywin's office. He was still curious as to what was in Tywin's office that made Brienne this desperate that she would kiss him. The woman can’t even look him straight in the eye whenever he gives hints of his feelings.  
  
And so, he walked towards the end of the hallway and took a peek inside the Stranger's lair.  
  
 _Fucking hells._  
  
He saw his five year-old niece, Myrcella there, clapping happily at her grandfather...  
  
who was wearing white overall tights and a tutu…

and an uncharacteristic smile…  
  
Twirling.  
  
Probably unaware that the door was open.  
  
No wonder Brienne was so desperate to stop Jaime from seeing that.  
  
Jaime almost coughed his shock out but thankfully, he managed to cover his mouth and turn away immediately.  
  
He saw Brienne from the far end of the hallway, still walking with unstable legs.  
  
Running after her, he whisper-shouted, “Wench! I need you to distract me again!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! You can blame this tho:
> 
> https://www.buzzfeed.com/erinlarosa/this-will-shatter-your-image-of-tywin-lannister?utm_term=.pxOy7r5Mr#.tfjzKxV2x
> 
> It's where all the Tywin in drag fics came from. Just like these:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Drag


	44. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not betaed and kind of weird. Sorry.
> 
> (Hey, remember Bernadette the maidservant? The one who saw the last "morning after" the twincest will ever have?)

_It wouldn’t be too wrong._

 

Bernadette repeatedly convinced herself that nothing was wrong with what she was doing. Or… maybe there was, but not much.

 

She’d been so dedicated to her lovely, queenly neighbor, Cersei Lannister-Baratheon, ever since the mostly golden family had moved to their village. She knew of the gorgeous woman’s many indiscretions that neither her fat husband nor her brother-slash-lover had been aware of, but Bernadette kept her mouth shut. She volunteered to be on the witness stand for Cersei’s beloved eldest when he needed help proving himself  _innocent_  of accusations of abuse by his ginger girlfriend. When a stupid hairdresser failed to give Cersei a proper bob and prompted the poor thing to chop most of her hair off, Bernadette made sure to cut her own hair in a similar way to assure the still majestic woman that she can rock that hairstyle and make it worthy of being copied by other girls. On several occasions, Cersei’s husband had repeatedly tried to hit on Bernadette but she never had, and never would, touch the bastard (unless Cersei would be joining them and demand that she do so. Demand, the golden  _queen_  had yet to do though; but Bernadette was willing to wait.)

 

She was probably... no, surely, the most loyal person Cersei had ever met – even more loyal than Jaime, the twin brother, who, Bernadette observed, had been attending to Cersei’s  _needs_ less and less in the past few weeks, and instead, had been spending more time with their other next-door neighbor, ugly, manly, beastly Brienne Tarth, doing gods know what. Unlike Jaime, Bernadette was willing to spend her entire day (life even) speaking with Cersei, if the golden beauty allowed it; or just content herself with watching from her bedroom, if Cersei needed time by herself, or with somebody else.

 

“I’ve always been devoted to Cersei” _,_ she whispered herself, not voicing out the rest of her thoughts -- that it shouldn’t be too much if she’d just watch Jaime’s face while he’s receiving what could only be the best blow job ever from precious, precious Cersei.

 

Bernadette would have preferred to watch Cersei and her exquisite mouth instead, but unlike the royal beauty’s room, the guest bedroom (which was practically Jaime’s room for so long until his recent inattentiveness to his sister) was on the far end of the Lannister-Baratheon residence; so, her binoculars only allowed her a view of the golden twin’s naked chest and contorted face.

 

 _'It must feel really, really great to have her mouth on you, eh, asshole twin? You don't deserve any of that. You've all the time you could spend taking care of Cersei, but you spend it with that stupid cow you can't even bear to fuck,'_ she thought scornfully.

 

The undeserving asshole started banging the wall he'd been leaning on with one clenched fist, his mouth hanging open as he took several hitched breaths. He must be speaking incoherent words from the looks of his face, but of course, the peeping neighbor couldn't hear anything. It was probably for the better, as Bernadette would only feel more jealous if she heard their voices. There wasn't much she could do when Cersei likes her brother the most among all her paramours. She'd just satisfy herself, for now, by imagining how Cersei's mouth must feel from the dying-like expression on Jaime's face.

 

Oh, what she'd give just to be the one to make Cersei have that expression herself. She deserves everything in the the world and Bernadette would be willing to give it all to her. To...

 

_Cersei?_

 

Bernadette thought she saw a head with golden, chopped hair peek inside Cersei's bedroom door but it was immediately gone. Before she could take a second look, her attention was drawn back by the movement in the guest room she was initially looking at. Jaime’s head was now slumped on the shoulder of another... no, he was kissing that shoulder... a broad, freckly one.  _Not Cersei's?_

 

The voyeur neighbor angrily shot up from her seat just as Jaime turned his back on her and pressed his partner's back on the wall... and fucking lifted...  _fucking Brienne Tarth?!!!_

 

Shaking in so much anger, Bernadette gathered her things -- the chips on a bowl beside her, the binoculars and her phone -- to find Cersei and alert her of this disgraceful disloyalty of her idiotic, unworthy brother.

 

However, before Bernadette could fully close her window, the golden head she'd seen in her beloved's bedroom peeked again, sort of glanced her way, and then went all the way inside.  _There_ was Cersei... with another blond, long-haired, Lannister-looking man.

 

Bernadette's shoulders drooped, both sides of her mouth curved downward as she sighed in defeat for what seemed like the thousandth time.

 

_When will her turn come?_

 

_Will telling on Jaime be enough to score one night? She could try? She should._

 

With a now firm resolve, Bernadette determinedly walked to her door. However, before she could even turn the knob, she heard a faint, synchronized scream of two voices.  _Damn!_

 

When she looked back at Cersei's bedroom, the beautiful woman had run out -- surely, to where the voices came from, the guest room. That fast, Cersei was gone. And so was Bernadette's only remaining chance to convince the golden lioness that she's the only one who will ever be this loyal to  _Her Grace_.


	45. Prayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is the closest to a contribution I can give for JB Week 2018. I'm sorry I could barely find time to write and read. I really miss my JBO ladies. So this goes out to all of you.)
> 
> Inspired by a cheesy Tagalog song titled, "Tagpuan" ("Rendezvous") by Moira dela Torre.
> 
> At the end is a terrible translation that may not make much sense because that's how it usually turns out when you translate poetry and songs from other languages, right? (Also I'm a shitty translator XD.)

Jaime had never spoken any prayer. Never asked for anything from the _gods_. Not after Joanna. Definitely not after Tywin. He’d turned his back on  _them_  long before he'd lost the children who’d never been his in the first place. He’d never questioned  _them_  for all the things that happened to his life. He didn’t blame  _them_  for the loss of his sword hand. Or for Cersei’s apparent distance since he’d lost that hand.

 

 _They_  just didn’t  _exist_ in Jaime’s world.

 

He’d casted all his never-ending questions to nowhere. He’d had a lot of questions, but for no one in particular.  _Why didn’t Cersei keep holding on to him? Why had she chosen to try and take his life when he’d already given his entire life fighting for her? T_ hose weren’t questions for the gods. He had no question for  _them_. He’d already run out of why’s and how’s and what now’s for  _them_.

 

He wouldn’t get an answer anyway. Not with a fervent prayer nor an offering at the sept. His fate would never turn right again.

 

This had always been the case anyway.

 

Well… Until Brienne…

 

Until he went North and decided to "Fuck loyalty"  because of Brienne.

 

Until because of her, he’d found himself again.

 

Until that someone whom he'd fought for when she barely had any strength left to fight. That person who dragged him back up when he'd given up, someone he’s fighting for now, who was also fighting for him.

 

With him.

 

Brienne. Brienne. Brienne.

 

Suddenly, all why’s and how’s and what now’s had been answered.

 

Fate, no matter how cruel it still is to the world as a whole, felt a bit right for him.

 

Now, looking at Brienne… at her sapphire eyes… making vows he was sure would never be broken, swearing love he was sure would be returned in full and more… He felt the gods watching… nodding at him as he finally placed his cloak over trembling shoulders.

 

_Brienne._

 

She was the answer to the prayer he’d always wanted but couldn’t bear to ask of  _them_.

 

She  _is_  his prayer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***I made tiny changes and additions to force the translation to make sense. Idk if it helped at all though. xD
> 
> No, I did not expect  
> That _it_ will happen to me.  
>  Because when I prayed to God,  
> I ran out of why’s.
> 
>  
> 
> _Why did s/he leave without saying?_  
>  _Why didn’t she fight, not even a bit?_  
>  _Why couldn’t fate ever get right?_
> 
>  
> 
> Then I caught a glimpse of you at God’s rendezvous,  
> There was a glint in your eyes that I could not understand.  
> Took a glance at that place from where I have tried to flee.  
> And the world had stopped spinning  
> When you pointed a finger at me  
> You are my prayer.
> 
> And no, I could not explain  
> What had happened to me.  
> All the stars had been witnesses  
> To your prayer, to my plea.***
> 
> How did all the why’s get answered?  
> I cannot believe this had happened.  
> How in the world did you set fate right?
> 
> When I caught a glimpse of you at God’s rendezvous,  
> There was a glint in your eyes that I could not understand.  
> Took a glance at that place from where I have tried to flee;  
> And the world stopped spinning  
> When you pointed a finger at me,  
> And you’ve chosen not to leave  
> When I was the one giving up on me,  
> And the world had changed  
> When you chose to fight for me  
> And the world had stopped spinning  
> When you have chosen me.  
> You are my prayer.
> 
> Mabuhay ang OPM! xD
> 
>  
> 
> [https://youtu.be/o3lohh-TVJA]()


End file.
